


you hate your pulse because it still thinks you're alive

by theseerasures



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseerasures/pseuds/theseerasures
Summary: It’s been a while since she’s had time to stop and think. Even after all the excitement of the dam’s fall, racing back to Arendelle, racing back to the Forest, there had been news to bring, plans to discuss, apologies to make: a nonstop whirlwind of discussion and movement. This is the first time she’s been still in hours, the first time the world has been quiet.At a stopover point on their way home from the Enchanted Forest, the euphoria runs out.
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa & Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	you hate your pulse because it still thinks you're alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Counterpunch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Counterpunch/gifts).



> Betaed by the inimitable ProfessorSpork. Spiritual successor to [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323370/chapters/2754511) of "measure your life."

As usual, Sven only gets a few steps up onto the crystalline staircase before his hooves slide him right back down.

“A few more weeks, buddy,” Kristoff says consolingly as he eases the grumbling reindeer back down to less slippery territory, “You’ll get your winter feet in no time.”

“I told you we should have packed his snowshoes,” Anna grouses, already halfway up herself, “But nooooo, it was all _we don’t have time, Anna_ and _it’s not even cold yet, Anna_ , and _we’re going to the Forest and not the North Mountain, what are the odds—_ whoa!”

Elsa grabs her hand as she threatens to fall backward. “You don’t have to go up.”

“ _You_ don’t have to go up,” Anna fires back immediately, and then flushes a little at Elsa’s raised eyebrow. “I mean—obviously you have to go up, that’s the whole point of coming here. I only—”

“It’s okay,” Elsa reassures hastily, not bothering to let go and continuing to steady Anna as they make their way up to the Ice Palace’s main doors. “I know what you meant.”

It’s true; they could have gone back to Arendelle first and rested up before coming back here. But she needs to make this right, and she _can_ , so why put it off? The sooner everyone’s restored and and back to normal, the better.

Olaf’s waiting for them when they finally get to the top. He looks uncharacteristically serious, but Elsa can understand why.

No sounds emerge from within the palace walls; everything is eerily silent.

“Should we…knock?” Olaf asks hesitantly.

“No need,” Elsa says, but she falters suddenly when she moves to push the doors open. When was the last time they were all here together? Kristoff makes pretty regular visits on the way to and from ice harvesting. She and Anna try to drop by when they have time, and of course Olaf tags along with any and all of them whenever he wants. But the last time they were all here at the same time might have been…

_We were so close. We can be like that again._

Elsa brushes it aside. A memory from the ice, nothing more. It’s silly to dwell on all that _now_ , when they’re coming back from another successful adventure. They won. They won _again_ , and what they lost, she can easily bring back.

She’s here for a reason, and the sooner she finishes, the sooner _everything_ can be finished. They can go back to their normal lives.

The door opens noiselessly at her push, and inside—

Anna gasps as Kristoff simultaneously bites out an explosive curse. Elsa barely registers either, too busy staring horrified at the countless piles of snow littered on the palace floor. It had been one thing to know what must have happened, or even feel it from the sudden hollow in her mind when she’d come back, but to see it all, here…

She always forgets how many of them there are, when she’s away. She always forgets how many she made, the number of lives tethered to hers.

“Elsa?” Anna’s concerned face looks blurry. “You don’t have to do this right now. We can—”

“I’m fine,” Elsa replies immediately, blinking hard so that her vision clears.

“You don’t look fine.” This time, Anna’s jaw sets when Elsa raises her eyebrow. “Well, you don’t! You’re all pale and your arm is busted and you have bruises _everywhere_ and you have to be exhausted because _I’m_ exhausted, and I didn’t even—”

She turns away abruptly, but not before Elsa catches that her eyes are suddenly wet.

_Die._ That’s what Anna had been about to say. Experimentally, Elsa brushes her fingertips with the pad of her thumb, feeling the sensation of soft flesh instead of slippery, hardening rime. She _had_ died. Anna’s right to be upset—she has every right.

But she’s back now; that’s the important thing. Elsa reaches out to her sister, tipping Anna’s face gently upward so they can make eye contact. “I can do this,” she says firmly.

Anna sucks in a loud, noisy breath, and then nods. “Just don’t wear yourself out. Take breaks, or—or something.”

Kristoff clears his throat. “Can we…um. Help, in some way? I mean, some of them—” He winces. “Some of the piles kind of. Spilled into each other? What if we separate them, make it easier for you to…”

“No, it’s okay,” Elsa says, when it’s clear he’s not going to finish. There’s no confusing the snowgies for her. They might have been made accidentally, but her magic knows every flake that makes up their being. “I got it.”

She closes her eyes and concentrates. Feels the magic coursing through her, lifting the snow piles up from the floor. Feels their lives return and coalesce with the memory of all that had happened on the day they were born: the ecstasy of eating ice cream cake, the playful mischief of running across town, the dizzying joy of spending a day with Anna…

“Slush!” Elsa hears Olaf exclaim. “Oh, welcome back! And Sludge and Slide and Ansel and Flurry and Fridge and Powder and…”

Everyone back to normal. Not a snowflake out of place.

Elsa smiles. She opens her eyes—

And the world immediately tilts on its axis.

“Elsa?” she hears Anna say as her knees buckle and she sinks ungracefully to the floor, “ _Elsa!”_

_She’s never going to let me live this down_ , Elsa thinks, and then she passes out.

* * *

_Heh_ , she thinks as she comes to again. _**Live**_ _this down_. _Live_. See, because she—

“I’m sorry, is this funny?” A shrill voice demands from above.

Elsa opens her eyes to meet Anna’s outraged glare. “It’s not,” she says hastily. “Sorry. Are they all back? Is everyone okay?”

Anna stares blankly at her for a second, then crosses her arms. “Nope. Ansel has two heads now.”

“ _What?”_ She bolts upright, just barely avoiding a headlong collision with Kristoff, who’d also been peering down at her in concern. “How—”

Ansel grins up at her, very much still one-headed and bouncing on his little feet. “Oh, ha ha,” Elsa says sarcastically before moving to stand. “Okay. I think Marshmallow is—”

“Nope,” Anna says again as Kristoff firmly pushes Elsa right back down to the ice floor. “You’re gonna sit and rest for at least fifteen more minutes, _then_ you can go fix Marshmallow.”

“Anna, I’m—”

“If you say you’re fine again I’m gonna clobber you with a stalactite. _And_ I’ll make you replace it,” The mulish expression on Anna’s face falters, just a little. “Can you just—for me. Please?”

There’s no way to say no. “Alright,” Elsa says. “Okay. Fifteen minutes.”

Another hard, searching look, and then Anna nods. “I’m gonna go see what Olaf’s up to. Kristoff, you can keep an eye on her, right?”

“Sure thing.”

“I’m not a _child_ ,” Elsa protests at the same time.

Her sister doesn’t even bother with a response, so she just slumps back into a more comfortable sitting position, grumbling.

“There, there,” Kristoff says perfunctorily. “Is the whole hair-in-your-eyes thing a required part of being a spirit?”

“I was trying to make it dry faster,” Elsa grouses, passing him a hair tie. She feels him getting to work immediately; first combing through the tangles, then moving into the braid. He doesn’t seem inclined to chat, so she stays silent too, trying to relax.

It’s been a while since she’s had time to stop and think. Even after all the excitement of the dam’s fall, racing back to Arendelle, racing _back_ to the Forest, there had been news to bring, plans to discuss, apologies to make: a nonstop whirlwind of discussion and movement. This is the first time she’s been still in hours, the first time the world has been _quiet_ , just the sound of breathing and the cold all around, everything in sight an icy blue…

“Elsa?” Kristoff’s hands have stilled.

She flinches, feeling sick all of a sudden—something about the blue hurts her eyes. That hadn’t always been true, had it? She’d built this place, but now she can barely stand to look; something about the color reminds her of—

_Dive down deep into her sound…_

“Here.” Something heavy falls across her shoulders.

Elsa blinks. It’s Kristoff’s big coat—the one he takes in case he gets caught outside in a storm. “I’m not cold.” She knows what cold feels like, now.

“It’s good to have pockets. And here…” He sticks his hand into one of the pockets. “You should eat something.”

“I can’t eat _that_ ,” Elsa protests. He’s offering her one of his emergency ration bars, and she’s heard him complain enough about Oaken’s extortionate prices for them. “Don’t they cost a fortune?”

“I’ll put it on the bill.” He rolls his eyes when she continues to hesitate. “ _Elsa_. Just eat it, okay?”

The thought of food makes her queasier, so she plans to just take a few bites for the sake of politeness—but then the whole thing disappears down her stomach, embarrassingly quickly. “I…guess it has been a while. Thanks, Kristoff—I needed that.”

“You need a vacation,” Kristoff says, “Or at least a nap.”

She doesn’t want to think about sleeping right now, if just staying still makes her stomach plummet off a cliff. “Has it been fifteen minutes?”

“Maybe? Look, Elsa—”

“Thanks for the food,” Elsa repeats, getting up. She keeps the coat on; it _does_ feel nice, even if it can’t make her warm. “I’m okay to go now.”

“Elsa…”

“I’ll nap when I’m done, I promise.” _Promise me we do this together_. She climbs out the staircase alone. Leans a little against the railing; everything feels spindly, like she’s on marionette strings.

The sight at the top of the steps brings her up short. Marshmallow is an enormous mound of ice and snow near the balcony doors. Had he climbed up to bellow for help in his last moments? Or had he just wanted to return, because here is where…here is…

_I know we can figure this out together!_

_Stop_. She slams that memory shut. _Get it together_.

Still, Elsa finds herself moving slowly, as if taking in the room for the first time. She’d done her best to fix it up after the Thaw, but it’s never been quite the same. If she looks carefully she can still see some faint scoring on the walls from the ice blasts and fired crossbow bolts, and the chandelier…

She’d never had the heart to replace it. It had been a needless extravagance in the first place; she should have known better.

_Don’t be the monster they fear you are!_

Enough philosophizing. Elsa closes her eyes and gets to work. She sinks into the emotions she’d felt that day: the exhilaration of the build, of cutting loose, letting herself be free for the first time…but there’s an odd resistance to the snow here, like her magic is reluctant against itself. Then again: Marshmallow _is_ her largest creation to date, so perhaps that’s only natural; she pulls a little harder, sensing the snow rise and converge as she lets the memories wash over her—

_I’m not leaving without you, Elsa!_

The icy pit in her stomach explodes outward. She’s freezing again. No; she’s frozen _everything_. Arendelle is suffocating under her magic, under her—why had she _run—_ stay away—get back— _get back in the cage—_

Something _thuds_ onto the ground. Elsa’s eyes fly open of their own accord and blue is the only thing she sees. She’s trapped down here—there’s no way out; she’d thought she had mastered the ice and now she’s paying for it. Something roars in her ears—Grandfather’s sword cleaving bloodily down— _why can’t I move—_ _why can’t I stop—_

_me?_ The dome is lined with ice and the world is endless _blue—_ spikes rising out of the ground— _monster—_ she’d thought it was just magic but it’s _her_ , it’s in her blood—blue like Anna’s eyes on the fjord, wide and blank and frozen solid—right after Elsa had struck her—right through the heart—right through the heart— _ANNA—_

“What’s going on up there? Marshmallow, stop yelling! Let me—Elsa?”

No. _Nonononono_. Anna’s _here_. She can’t—

“ _Please_ ,” Elsa manages to push out. _Stayawayhelpme_ she doesn’t remember the rest. Her teeth are chattering and she can’t _breathe_. “Please. Please.”

“Okay, I’m—I’m at the doorway, Elsa. See?” Anna waves. “And I won’t come any closer until you’re sure it’s fine. Right? We’ve done this before. We’ve got this. _You’ve_ got this. It’s not even cold right now. Kristoff, can you—”

“Yeah,” he says immediately, appearing at Anna’s shoulder. “It’s, um. It’s a little chillier here than the rest of palace. I can feel it here, but—” he takes a few paces back, “—not here, and it’s not spreading or getting colder. The ice isn’t looking any different, so I’d say it can’t be more than a five degree dip, at most.”

“You heard it straight from the ice expert,” Anna says, “And it’s not snowing, even a little—you’re okay, Elsa. You’re not losing control. Everyone’s safe. You made them safe. You made this room, and—” her voice wobbles, but rights itself again, “—and sure, some bad stuff happened in it once, but it’s not happening now. And it won’t happen again. We won’t let it. All you have to do now is focus on calming down, okay?”

Elsa takes one sharp, tight breath, then another. Her vision is still marred by wavy lines, so she reaches out, tries to steady herself—

And hits something soft and cold. Marshmallow is looking down at her, his brows furrowed in concern. “Elsa?” he rumbles.

She sags into him, a wet, wounded sound tearing out of her mouth. “Marshmallow.”

“Good,” Anna says as Marshmallow picks her up carefully and sets her on his shoulder. “That’s—thanks, Marshmallow. We’ll count that as your first thing, Elsa. You got four more? What else can you see?”

Elsa opens her mouth, but the word freezes in her throat, because the only thing she can see—

“I got this!” Olaf sings, bouncing in with the snowgies trailing after him. “Hey, big little brother! Welcome back.”

“Olaf,” Elsa exhales, feeling the corners of her lips flick up minutely. The tightness in her chest relents, a little.

“That’s two,” he replies, nodding encouragingly. “And now you have _all_ these guys, and I know you only have to do three more, but I read in a book that it’s damaging to the family structure to pick favorites, soooo…”

The snowgies beam at her in unison.

Elsa lets out a soft huff; not quite a laugh, not yet. Then she begins.

* * *

“ _AH-ah-AH-ah!_ ”

Her hands jump involuntarily. Sven grunts at her—half concerned, half irritated as the carrot she’d been feeding him suddenly gets coated in a layer of frost.

“Show yourself! Right now!”

It’s Olaf. It’s just Olaf, still in the Ice Palace regaling his brothers about their latest adventure while the rest of them get ready to go.

Well. While Kristoff and Anna get them ready to go.

Elsa lets out an embarrassed chuckle, resisting the urge to fling the frozen carrot off the side of the mountain so no one can see it. “Sorry, Sven.”

“No apologizing for another hour!” Anna calls out from behind the stack of blankets they now have to pile back onto the sled. “Kristoff, we’re starting the clock again.”

“I was saying sorry to _Sven_ ,” she protests, watching her sister huff and puff over the repacking process. “Are you sure I can’t—”

“Nope,” Kristoff says at the same time Anna says “Nothing productive for you for another _day_. Another week, maybe.”

Even Sven’s gentle headbutt feels rather pointed. “That’s absurd. I can—”

“ _Someone_ still wants to be smothered in blankets,” Anna singsongs.

“Anna—”

“Elsa! We did it. We won. We saved like, a ton of people, and you did maybe eighty percent of it by yourself, so will you just stay _still_ for one whole second and appreciate that—”

“We live!” Marshmallow’s roar rings out of the Ice Palace and takes them all by surprise. “We live!” He shouts again joyously, the being she’d made out of misery and fear.

“Yeah.” Anna’s voice sounds small in its wake. “That.”

Elsa lets out a slow, deep sigh, and lets herself slump down against Sven. “It wasn’t eighty percent,” she mumbles into his flank.

A rumbling laugh, coming from the Ice Palace. Marshmallow again: “Good story! Good story, Olaf.”

“It wasn’t,” she repeats, not sure why she’s insisting the point when no one’s even arguing with her. She’d been trying to sound flippant, but now…now she just feels wrung out. Some Fifth Spirit. “You freed the forest, Anna. I didn’t—I just—it didn’t feel good. I don’t…”

She’s so tired.

Anna’s arms wrap around her. “That’s okay,” she says, pressing a firm kiss on the top of Elsa’s head. “You’re _okay_ , Elsa. We’ve got you.”

Kristoff’s hand touches her waist a moment later, carefully enough that she doesn’t startle, gently guiding her to a position where she can be nestled in between all of them.

She doesn’t need to do anything but let herself be moved. Elsa closes her eyes, and leans into their embrace.

* * *

“Okay,” she says fifteen minutes later, “Just _one more thing—_ ”

“ _Absolutely_ not,” Anna orders as Kristoff says, “Sven, sit on her.”


End file.
